


A Chance Meeting

by QueenEgg



Category: Hollow Knight (Video Game)
Genre: AU: Ghost and Quirrel meet outside of Hallownest, Bug Fights, Gen, Other, Quirrel is a lovesick fool, an oddly romantic retelling of the game from Quirrel's perspective, i was out of my element sorry if they're wonky, so many fight scenes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-26
Updated: 2017-12-26
Packaged: 2019-02-21 21:03:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 17,987
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13152000
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QueenEgg/pseuds/QueenEgg
Summary: or, What if Quirrel discovered the enigmatic Ghost in the wastelands outside of Hallownest? (hint: its romance)





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Brackets_002](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Brackets_002/gifts).



> This is a Christmas gift for the amazing Brackets! Thank you for dragging me into the world of Hollow Knight! I know I'll never get to repay you properly, but I hope you enjoy this story at least

How long had they been traveling? It was a question he couldn’t help but repeat out of dozens of other inquiries he’d kept to himself. The sands were vast and relentless, yet they pressed onward, seeking, _searching_. Absently, Quirrel reached behind him and relaxed almost imperceptibly as a small hand slipped into his. At his side, his friend and fellow wanderer kept close to avoid the strongest of the violent gusts, their cloak billowing in the wind.

It had only been a short while, he assumed, since they’d parted ways with the other, much larger bug who’d shared their food with the two of them. Now, they were drawing nearer to that fabled place. Hallownest’s call drew them in the direction of the legendary kingdom, and soon they would be at its doorstep. Despite not remembering having ever been to the place himself, Quirrel was attracted to the place, haunted by fables passed on by other wandering creatures and adventurers alike.

Although his memories of the past may have been vague and clouded, Quirrel didn’t think he’d ever be able to forget the moment when he’d met his dear companion.

 

Time was meaningless when one was traveling through the seemingly endless wastelands. Days were a concept that slipped through one’s fingers when there was no sun in the sky, and the world around you was desolate and bleak. It was at the start of his pilgrimage to Hallownest that Quirrel had stumbled upon the other bug. He’d witnessed them wield their blunted nail with the battle instinct of a warrior, tearing apart a pack of wild beasts with the dull weapon as though it were a knight’s blade.

It only took a moment for him to draw his own blade and leap into the fray to assist. Despite them appearing startled at his sudden appearance, upon realizing that he wasn’t there to do them any harm, they fell into a rhythm that resulted in the feral creatures being dispatched and chased away soon after.

Once the beasts were gone, Quirrel turned to the other bug and tilted his head slightly in way of greeting they repeated the action in turn.

“I hope my intrusion wasn’t too much of a distraction for you, Stranger, but it looked like you could use some assistance just then.” Instead of responding, they sheathed their weapon and gazed up at him. After holding his stare for a few seconds, they appeared to have accepted his presence, nodding slowly before focusing back on themselves.

In the lull after the battle, Quirrel observed them as they cleaned themselves off. They were of quite a short stature, but after watching them fight, he knew better than to underestimate their skills. Their cloak was worn with age, but it held fast to them, while their mask hid any sort of emotion from his gaze. All in all, they were an interesting being, one he wouldn’t have minded learning more about if it weren’t for the fact that he was likely headed in a different direction than they were.

“Well, that was enough excitement for me. I do hope my company wasn’t too unwelcome, and good luck on your travels ahead,” he said with a short bow, before standing and continuing his journey through the sands.

Afterwards found him returning to his trek in search of the ruined kingdom alone for a short while before the tell-tale sensations of being both watched and followed began to buzz at the edge of his mind. Though, it wasn’t until he made another stop to rest that he once again came into contact with the small warrior, the pale white of their mask standing out against the gray dunes as he waved, beckoning them into his temporary shelter.

“Fancy meeting you again! I must say though, even if I can’t choose my company, I am glad to have some at all.” Quirrel laughed softly to himself even as they looked up at him in what he thought was confusion. “Ah, but I don’t believe I’ve actually introduced myself, have I? My apologies, I’m Quirrel. Who might you be, Stranger?” At his inquiry, they didn’t respond, instead choosing to look down at their hands before back up to him.

“Well, if you aren’t in the mood to share, I can respect that. We each have our own purpose for wandering this great big place, and it isn’t my place to pry.” Shaking his head at his own over-eagerness to learn something new, he turned back to them. “Personally, I’m seeking the fabled kingdom of Hallownest. I’ve heard stories and tales of such a magnificent place, I just have to see it for myse- oh?” Pausing in his speech, he glanced down at them only to see them enthusiastically pointing at themselves.

“Hm, would I be correct in assuming that you too search for that place of wonders?” Their responding nod had him feeling elated for the first time in what might’ve been years. “Why, how grand! It seems we are destined to tread the same path. In that case, I pray you won’t think me too forward if I suggest that we travel together. After all, there is safety in numbers.”

His new companion seemed to have no complaints of following along on the way to their destination.

Judging by how far they’d traveled since, Quirrel figured it might have been anywhere from several weeks to a few months since their pathways had converged, and despite their inability to speak, they were quite expressive when they wanted to be. It took some time for them to become comfortable around him enough to let their guard down, but he was patient.

Quirrel’s friend- and he was sure they were his friend at this point -had no qualms about fighting off wild bugs or threatening the more dangerous travelers the two encountered while on the road, but they were also interesting in ways he hadn’t expected.

They enjoyed resting their head against his midsection when they stopped to take breaks from traveling in the unending sandstorm. Light fascinated them, and Quirrel had to take extra precautions to make sure they knew that fire wasn’t a harmless thing they could touch. They treated their nail like it was a precious treasure despite its age and worn state, and when they thought he was getting too far away from them while walking, they’d quicken their steps and latch onto his hand with theirs to make sure he wouldn’t get too far ahead. It was a practice he’d picked up on as well over time, to the point where it was second nature.

Quirrel could no longer imagine traveling without them, and now it seemed like the two had finally reached their destination.

Giant empty shells littered the space around them as they walked, and soon, poles with a familiar four-horned crest with strips of trailing fabric tied to them became visible even in the wind. A few more steps past the boundary markers and the sandstorm lessened from a vicious gale to a breeze.

After so long, they’d finally reached it. The end of the wastelands was behind them, and beyond the steep cliff face lied the place which sang to them in their dreams.

The Kingdom of Hallownest was within their grasp.

 

Gazing up at the steep cliffs before them, Quirrel briefly wondered how his little friend would scale them. Their hands weren’t suited to gripping rock, and he didn’t know if they’d let him carry them-

A flash of red from above drew him out of his thoughts, and Quirrel quickly stuck his arm out in front of his companion in hopes of preventing them from drawing their nail too soon. High on top of the cliffs, a pale bug dressed in a flowing crimson cloak loomed over them. On her back was a polished needle, a single strand of luminous thread hovering around her body.

“Stop right there, traveler. If you come in search of the sacred kingdom of Hallownest then I advise you turn back now. Only death awaits those who wish to tread upon its ground, and as its protector, those who fail to respect it will fall to my blade.” she called out to them, her voice edged with warning. In response, Quirrel gripped his nail tighter. He didn’t want this encounter to end badly.

“Ah, please forgive our intrusion, but we only come to observe these ruins-” He had no chance to finish, for as soon as his friend stepped out from behind them, she leaped from her perch and dashed towards them, weapon poised to strike.

It was only his pre-preparedness that allowed him to parry her slash and avoid having his face split, her battle cry ringing in his head as he attempted to fend her off.

“I see through your deceit, simple bug, and I see too the being you have brought with you to this kingdom’s doorstep! For the good of these ancient lands I cannot allow you to pass.” Quirrel feared another series of attacks, but his friend rushed into the fray before he could stop them. A sharp cry from the red-cloaked bug was swallowed up by the wind as the edge of their nail caught her leg.

In the back of his mind, something screamed out as Quirrel watched her angle her needle at them, its pointed tip ready to spear them. Be it because of instinct or something else, Quirrel threw himself in front of his companion. As soon as her weapon struck the mask atop his head, a bright flash blinded all three of them as a loud drumming noise echoed against the cliffs. With a gasp, he fell to the ground dazed, while his friend hurried to stand in front of him, their nail held high.

However, instead of continuing her onslaught, their assailant tossed her needle upwards and vaulted away, her cloak billowing as she turned back to face them.

“I know why you were both called here, though that won’t stop me from doing my duty should I find you overstepping your boundaries. Watch yourself, simple bug, and watch even closer the ghost who follows in your wake.” With another flash of her weapon she was gone, her pale visage disappearing over the cliffs and out of view faster than Quirrel could comprehend.

It took a moment for him to recover from the ordeal, but as soon as he was up again, his friend began to pull on his wrist nervously. Stifling his amusement, he kneeled on the ground and let them inspect him to their liking. When they apparently found no major injuries on his shell, they let him stand again, though they didn’t let go of his hand.

“Thank you for your concern, my friend, but I do believe I am no worse for wear. Though I must say, I didn’t expect our entrance into the kingdom to be so exciting.” Glancing back down at his companion, one of the things the red-cloaked bug returned to his mind. “What did she mean when she called you a ghost? You seem quite solid to me.” Quirrel couldn’t even laugh at his own half-hearted joke, though in response, his friend looked down at themselves for a moment before pointing at their own face.

“Not a description then, but something else. A name, perhaps?” At that, they began to nod enthusiastically, and Quirrel couldn’t help but feel excited as well. Finally- after an indefinable amount of time -he had something he could call them. “In that case, I look forward to traversing the remnants of this kingdom with you, Ghost.”

Hand in hand, both of them turned to face the cliffs together.


	2. King's Pass | Dirtmouth

Scaling the cliffs had been a trial that Quirrel didn’t fancy repeating any time soon, but now that it was over, he could finally relax in knowing that he could finally stop focusing on uncertainties. At his side, Ghost absentmindedly batted away a crawlid before it collided with their legs. Quirrel knew his friend had a much softer shell than most, but that didn’t mean they weren’t a capable fighter. Although he’d prefer that they stay out of harm’s way, Ghost was more eager to engage in combat than he was.

Thankfully, they hadn’t encountered anything more dangerous than a vengefly so far. Quirrel was thankful that the path was well lit, with lumafly lanterns lining the worn road, and by the time they reached the end of it, the two of them could see the lights of a small settlement far below them.

“Not far now! Can you believe we’re almost there? It feels like we’ve been wandering through the sands for an eternity-” Turning to see if Ghost returned the sentiment, Quirrel found them nowhere to be found. With a jolt, he spun around to look over the edge of the drop that led downward. To his distress, he couldn’t see much through all the dust. There were no tiny black hands clinging to stone, or even a hint of his friend’s pale visage anywhere to be seen. With a noise of panic, Quirrel hurried to look for another way down.

His frantic searching resulted in the discovery of a pathway that he hoped would lead to the base of the chasm, and to his immense relief, it did. After stepping out into the open space at the bottom of the drop, Quirrel scanned the room with increasing urgency.

“Ghost! Where are you-!” A tugging on his arm made him aware of their presence right behind him, his shoulders sagging in relief as he realized they were unharmed. “Oh, oh! Please don’t ever do that to me again. Did you jump?” Their responding nod of acknowledgment had Quirrel glancing back up to where the top of the cliff was, his sight once again obscured by the plumes of dust that hovered far above them.

“My word, what a fall! Are you sure you aren’t hurt?” His fretting went ignored as Ghost slipped away once more, their beckoning look prompting him to leave his worries behind once more as he followed.

 

Ghost’s blunted nail wasn’t the most refined weapon he’d ever seen, but it served well in breaking apart the crumbling doorways that blocked their path quite easily. Quirrel marveled at how straightforward they were, their stride unceasing except for the few moments they needed to hack apart obstacles with their weapon. Not once had he seen them stop for anything in the wastelands, except now-

“Hm, what an intriguing object,” he hummed, gazing at the carved tablet in front of him. Ancient runes marked its surface, yet whatever knowledge the stone might’ve held was lost to him, as the language of the runes themselves were unlike anything he’d seen before.

Quirrel was just about to continue on his way when Ghost approached the tablet, light spilling from the carvings as soon as they came close. Letting out a noise of intrigue, Quirrel stepped back slightly until he was at their side once more, glancing down at them curiously as they stared at the stone.

“Ghost, can you read it?” he asked. After a few seconds, they tilted their head downward in a subtle  _ no _ . Trying to avoid letting his disappointment show, Quirrel shook off the hope that’d briefly flared up in his chest and turned away. “Well, I suppose I shouldn’t have raised my expectations so soon-” Before he could walk away from the tablet, Ghost pulled him back and reached up to point at their own head. It took a few moments for Quirrel to understand their gesturing, but the meaning behind their motions soon became apparent.

“You can hear- are the tablets  _ speaking _ to you?” Their responding nod had him whispering out an awed, “ _ How remarkable... _ ” With his curiosity sated, Quirrel moved to leave the room. “I know you can’t talk in the same way I can, but to know that at least someone can make use of these things means that there’s a chance I’ll be able to learn their secrets at some point. Thank you.” Ghost gave him a half nod before following.

Thankfully, the pathway from there was littered with little outcroppings of rock that made it easy for Ghost to hop and jump their way up. Quirrel could feel that they were getting closer to their destination. Each step he took made the call weaker, his feet automatically directing him as he continued onward. It wouldn’t be long now until-

“Well, I wonder when this was installed here,” Quirrel mumbled, gazing up at the worn stone doors that prevented them both from proceeding forward. “How unfortunate, I suppose we’ll have to find yet another way arou-” His words were cut short as Ghost brushed past him and immediately took to the doors with their weapon. The nail flashed repeatedly in the darkness as his small companion struck at it, again and again, the worn stone breaking into smaller pieces with each of their swings. Before long, their efforts were rewarded by a thunderous sound as the barrier came apart in front of them, though the act of relentlessly attacking the door left Ghost heaving slightly after the sudden exertion.

Kneeling down at their side, Quirrel extended a hand for them to hold onto while they recovered, a hint of amusement in his voice as he chided them. “My, you certainly don’t waste time. Though I’ll admit, this path is probably much more convenient than whatever route we might have needed to take otherwise. Are you alright?” After a moment or two of leaning against him, Ghost re-sheathed their nail and proceeded through the now cleared pathway, but not before looking back at him and beckoning him forth with a slight tilt of their head.

Standing, Quirrel followed them past the arch and over to the ledge where they now stood. Glancing down, he couldn’t help but let out a short gasp of awe at the lights shining up from below. The town was within reach.

Although it seemed that there used to be a bridge connecting the town to the caverns they’d just emerged from, it was long gone, and in its place was a sheer drop. Almost as soon as he’d realized the fact, there was a slight breeze at his side, and the next thing he saw was Ghost’s cloak vanishing over the edge. A sharp noise Quirrel didn’t even know he could make escaped him as he jumped over the edge as well, using his own claws to slow his descent down.

At the bottom, Ghost was waiting for him, with only their unbothered stare and undisturbed appearance stopping him from unleashing a torrent of concern upon them. Hiding his worry with a soft laugh, the two continued down the dusty road, lumafly posts lighting the way up to a small, somewhat empty settlement. There were several houses, though most of them were boarded up, seemingly abandoned by their owners. To Quirrel’s surprise, next to a bench in the center of the town standing beneath one of the lanterns was a solitary bug.

While Quirrel waved in greeting as they approached, Ghost made directly for the bench, their shoulders sagging with relief almost as soon as they made contact with the structure. Turning back to the only visible inhabitant of the town, Quirrel felt his spirits lift as the other bug waved back, his steps hastening for the last few paces it took to reach the stranger.

“Hello there! You’ll have to excuse my friend, they’re a bit worn down from our travels. What a...” he paused to glance at his sparse surroundings, “- _ quaint _ place. You must not get very many visitors, I assume.” At that, the other bug seemed visibly startled, yet after a moment, he cleared his throat and hummed out a greeting.

“Oh, we used to get them frequently. There also used to be more than just me to grant welcome, but I’ve not seen another resident of our little town in some time. Most of them have vanished down the well in front of the cemetery, off seeking glory in the ruins of that old kingdom. Although we’ve only just met, traveler, I assume that you too are here to chase your dreams below, where the beasts are many and the survivors are few.” The old bug’s speech left Quirrel feeling vaguely ill. He’d come quite far in search of Hallownest, and he couldn’t afford to let a stranger’s words deter him from finding the truth.

Putting on a good-natured air, he tried not to let the blossoming uncertainty show. “Well, I’m Quirrel, and the one resting on your lovely bench there is Ghost. We came seeking Hallownest, yes, but not for any reason like treasure or fame.” Actually, he still didn’t know why Ghost was looking for the old kingdom. But then again, it would be very difficult for them to communicate what it was, even if he asked. “If you’re worried about our safety then I must assure you, we’re quite adept at looking after each other,” he said.

Turning to glance at his companion, Quirrel made a soft noise of surprise as he caught sight of Ghost heading for the well. Shooting the elder bug a quick farewell, he raced after them.

“I pray you won’t end up like the rest of the corpses beneath us, traveler, though I won’t be surprised if I never see you or your companion again!” Quirrel resisted the urge to throw back a retort the old one’s statement even as he slid down the well shaft after Ghost.

Neither of them was going to die down there. Not if he had anything to say about it.


	3. Greenpath

Quirrel disliked unnecessary violence. Fighting for the sake of fighting brought him no joy, and even when he thought back to the tough-shelled beast that had blocked the entrance into the verdant lands before him, he couldn’t stop himself from feeling a pang of regret. The creature was likely just defending its territory, and yet they’d had to defeat it before they were able to move past it. Gracefully hopping over the gaps in the stone, Quirrel avoided getting singed by the bubbling river flowing just below his feet.

Peering down at the acid stream beneath him, he glanced back at Ghost and called out a quick warning. He didn't want them to fall in after all. their shell was much too delicate to spend even a moment submerged in the corrosive liquid. Though as fate would have it, they’d still somehow manage to slip off the edge of one of the moss-covered platforms.

"Ah, watch yourself-!" he gasped, reaching out to catch them around the middle before they touched the surface of the acid. “Please be more careful, Ghost. A dip in there would be unpleasant for a bug such as myself, but it could be deadly for you.” Setting them back down on the stone pathway, he took a moment to visually assess them before proceeding onwards.

The lush greeneries surrounding them were awe-inspiring, and unlike the crossroad’s empty halls, this section of the caverns was bursting with life. Creatures of all kinds hid among the foliage- occasionally to their detriment, but mostly harmless -and the scenery was remarkable in a way Quirrel himself had trouble describing.

“Magnificent! To think that this could all exist down here, it’s quite an amazing find,” he sighed, turning his head this way and that to try and drink in his surroundings with his eyes.

Even Ghost had slowed down from their determined pace to walk leisurely at his side the moment they were past the acid pools. Soon, the two came upon a bench, and without any prompting, both bugs stopped to sit and relax.

The atmosphere of the place was comforting and, if he didn’t think too hard about it, almost familiar. Quirrel felt like he could’ve sat there next to Ghost forever, content to bask in their presence for as long as possible.

However, the moment was not to last. There was still an entire kingdom to explore and discover, and Quirrel didn’t want to miss out on any of it. So, when Ghost stood, he followed.

Quirrel couldn’t say that he didn’t expect for them to encounter any obstacles in their way as they traveled, but the familiar red cloak in the distance was definitely a reason for concern. It only took a second for Ghost to notice where his gaze was focused, and in an instant, their nail was drawn. Quirrel didn’t know whether he should be thankful or worried when the protector of Hallownest vanished from sight the moment she noticed them watching her. He had a feeling that they’d encounter her again in the near future.

\---

“I-  _ I didn’t think it’d be this soon _ -!” Quirrel cried. Just beyond his reach, separated by a metal grate, Ghost was fighting against the red-cloaked bug alone. If he had known what was waiting for them at the end of the path, perhaps he’d have made a better attempt to stifle his thoughts earlier. They’d approached the room without knowing what lied in store for them- the apparent corpse of a bug much too similar to Ghost drawing their curiosity -and now there was nothing he could do to help them in their battle.

Every time Ghost’s nail clashed with the other bug’s needle, unshakeable terror would wrack Quirrel’s frame. His grip on his own blade was unyielding, no matter the fact that he knew he wasn’t able to assist them. The protector of Hallownest was skilled, but Ghost’s own fighting abilities were honed after spending an age defending themselves in the wastelands alone.

There were several moments during the fight where Quirrel felt sick with fear over Ghost. They would narrowly miss being struck by the protector’s needle, or one of the threads from another one of her attacks would graze their shell and he’d see the black fluid that spilled from their wounds splash against the ground. In contrast, he’d rejoice with every successful swipe of their nail and each neat dodge.

As the fight continued, Quirrel feared his heart would explode inside his chest as Ghost continued to struggle against their assailant. Although both combatants were obviously wounded, neither was showing any signs of stopping. It was only when Ghost’s opponent’s needle shot across the arena faster than the eye could see and caught them in the side that Quirrel began to panic. He couldn’t scream out for fear of distracting them, but what else was he supposed to do when faced with a situation such as this?

Even as his thoughts began to consume him, Quirrel didn’t miss the distinct noise of pain that echoed out from the room. Glancing at both of to the chamber’s occupants, he gasped as he saw the blood staining Ghost’s weapon, a distinctly familiar dark stain beginning to bloom on the cloak of the one they’d been fighting.

With that, the battle was over.

Quirrel was leaping down into the room before the grates had even fully receded, but before he could proceed any further, he found a needle pointed at his face once again. In his haste to get to Ghost, he’d forgotten that they were not the only ones there.

“...I have greatly underestimated you Little Ghost. That is a mistake I will not repeat in the future.” She said all this with her weapon stilled trained on Quirrel, yet before he could react, she was already shooting away on her thread.

Now lacking any other obstacles in his path, Quirrel stepped forward to catch his friend just before they collapsed against him, leaning heavily on both his side and their nail. Gathering them up into his arms, he sighed a mixture of relief and exhaustion, the stress catching up to him faster than he’d expected.

“Please don’t ever do that to me again.” he pleaded, clutching them tightly even as he watched them tend to their wounds.

Unfortunately, their refusal to meet his gaze assured him that this wouldn’t be the last time this would happen.


	4. Fungal Wastes

There was a bell ringing somewhere.

Quirrel looked up in surprise at the sound. He wasn’t just imagining it either. He’d been so enthralled in the architecture of the abandoned station that he’d lost track of Ghost somehow, and the  _ bell _ -

Standing, he hopped down the worn stone steps of the stag station, tracing the echoes of the delicate sound to one of the terminals at the bottom of the room. As he approached, he could hear a set of thundering footsteps coming closer. To his surprise, when he rounded the corner, he found Ghost standing atop a platform just before a large, saddled beast who huffed at him as soon as it noticed his approach.

“Oh! So this is where you ran off to. I had no idea these stations were still inhabited!” His enthusiastic waving was responded to with a good-natured toss of the stag’s head just before the creature itself began to speak.

“Greetings, traveler! Your small friend has done me quite a favor. Already, they’ve unlocked four of this kingdom’s stations, and I hope that in the future they’ll discover more.” The stag’s delighted chuffing prompted Quirrel to look down at his friend and the bell stand beside them. How had he not noticed them opening the stagways before? “If either of you ever require my services, you need only ring the bell to summon me.” With that, the elderly stag lowered his head once more and Quirrel was left feeling a little bit lighter. It wasn’t often that one discovered a friendly face along one’s travels, but Quirrel valued them all.

“Well, I’m quite certain we’ll return if we ever need to be anywhere in a hurry. Thank you, my friend.”

“Safe travels, you two. The world out there is dangerous.” The stag couldn’t wave, but Quirrel was sure he would if he was able. Soon, he and Ghost were departing once more, headed up towards the opposite end of the stag station.

They’d only just left the odd foggy place that separated the greenpath from the brief place of refuge, but Quirrel was ready to move on. The atmosphere of that place turned his mind to fog and his thoughts to mist- any ideas that might’ve appeared in his head vanishing almost as soon as they appeared. Yet at the same time, he was drawn to it. Even as the smooth flooring beneath his feet changed to soft, peaty fungus, there was a piece of him that longed to return to that place.

_ Why do you call me? Why here? Why now?  _ They were all questions he wished he could answer. But he wouldn’t find his answers by staring at bubbles all day.

Lost in his own introspection, Quirrel failed to notice the odd creature floating just above him until Ghost was forced to launch themselves at him to push him out of the way of the noxious spray of gas that the beast spewed forth upon noticing him.

Tumbling to the ground, Quirrel gasped and spluttered as his mask was suddenly covered in mushrooms. Sitting up sharply, he cleared out his vision just in time to see Ghost dispatch the floating fungus-beast with their nail- its body leaking air fast enough to send it blowing away into the distance.

“I- my apologies, I should’ve been paying more attention to where I was going,” he mumbled, before taking their offered hand and pulling himself to his feet. Resting a hand on the hilt of his nail, he straightened the mask atop his head with the other. “What an odd place.”

Quirrel was used to walking on firm rock, not the squishy, mushy ground beneath his feet that threatened to drag him down to become food for the already prolific spores that filled the very air. As they progressed, he began to wonder if his dear friend was having a similar issue as he was with dealing with the smell. Though, even when they cut down the various mushroom beasts that populated the wasteland before them- the putrid scent of decay rising from their bodies did nothing to deter them. For a brief moment, Quirrel considered undoing his bandana from around his head and wrapping it around his face in hopes of stifling the smell instead.

It was when Ghost finally grew tired of meandering through the twisting, mazelike caverns and decided to rush through the tunnels that Quirrel finally felt more comfortable. The cloak his friend had obtained in Greenpath had imbued them with the ability to dash through the air, allowing them to keep up with his own quick leaps. When he was moving fast, he didn’t have a chance to stop and focus on his surroundings.

He didn’t quite know what they were looking for, but Ghost was relentless in their hunt. As they descended further into the wastes, a flash of red in the corner of his vision brought dread and uncertainty with it. Quirrel didn’t know if the protector of Hallownest was a welcome or unwelcome sight, but Ghost seemed determined to follow her regardless of what happened the last time the two were in a room together.

The mysterious bug waited for them in front of a bridge- its panels deactivated and uncrossable -before zipping away faster than the eye could see. The sign in front of the divide was similar to the one they’d encountered just outside of Greenpath, yet this one told of a city just beyond it. For not the first time, Quirrel felt a stab of disdain for the warrior bug. She was always ahead of them, but if she ever tried to face off against Ghost again-

“Well... how do you suppose we get across?” he asked. Ghost, as usual, had no reply, but after staring out over the acid pool beneath the steps, they turned around and headed in the opposite direction. Instead of traveling forward towards the city, they started to climb.

It was times like this that Quirrel wished he had a way to know just what Ghost was thinking. His friend was an enigma in their actions, though everything they did had a purpose that Quirrel knew would eventually show itself later. So he continued to follow them, climbing the mushroom-covered cliffs while they took a less direct route in using their nail to bounce off the clusters of thick-skinned fungi that filled the cavern.

As he waited for Ghost to reach him, Quirrel took the time to marvel at their existence. They had many qualities that were remnant of a life lived only in the wastes- resilient, strong, skilled with a nail, quick -all things necessary for survival in a place where kindness was seldom found. However, after traveling with them, he found that they were much more than that. Ghost was deadly, yes, but they were also kind, eager to learn, and thoughtful in their own unique way. Every moment he spent with them was something he treasured. He didn’t even know what he’d do if he was forced to travel without them.

The sensation of a hand on his shoulder startled Quirrel out of his thoughts, and he turned his head sharply to see Ghost at his side. Their head was tilted in a way that meant they were curious.

“Oh, there you are. Shall we?” Patting their hand, he stood and let them take the lead once more.

For once, their tiny footsteps were the only noise in the caverns. Or at least, they were until an odd rumbling became apparent- the ground beneath Quirrel’s own feet shaking as  _ something _ moved through the earth. That something soon revealed itself to be another bug- a cicada warrior if he wasn’t mistaken -wielding a large club that was identical to the massive husk guards that he and Ghost had encountered in the crossroads some time ago.

“Ah-hah! I knew I sensed something above me, but I didn’t expect to find two beings like myself here!” her voice rang out strong in the empty cavern with only the soft hissing of the acid pools to contest. “How go your travels? Those shroom creatures are certainly a pain to deal with, and I’d hate for something terrible to befall you, little travelers.” At her amicable air, Quirrel couldn’t help but heave out a sigh of relief. Despite her imposing stature, it seemed that she wasn’t dangerous to them at least.

“They’re certainly full of roadblocks, but we’re still forging ahead. I’m Quirrel, and this one next to me is Ghost. Though I wouldn’t underestimate them if I were you. They’ve cut their way through more of those fungal beasts than I can count.” he said, letting a bit of fondness creep into his voice.

“Oh, I meant no offense by it. It gladdens me so to know that even someone of your stature can be deadly in your own right. I’m Cloth, and I’ve come here in search of serious combat! The more dangerous the better, and I heard word from a long-necked bug sometime earlier that there’s a deadly tribe somewhere beneath us. I plan on going there just as soon as I’ve regained my strength.” She laughed softly, as though the idea of fighting off hordes of violent creatures was something to rejoice. “Stay safe, and I hope our paths cross again short ones.” Before Quirrel had a chance to speak up, she was gone again, her massive body vanishing beneath the ground faster than he could comprehend.

“Well...that certainly was an interesting meeting.” Glancing down at Ghost, he watched them nod in agreement. As he stared at the spot where the cicada warrior last stood, he felt them begin to pull him back in the direction they’d just come from. “Hm? Are we heading back?” They nodded once more, and that was all the confirmation it took for him to start moving once more.

As they descended, Quirrel slid to the bottom of the cavern and craned his head back to watch Ghost as bounced their way down before landing in front of him. Although he expected them to walk in the direction of the bridge, they turned and dropped into another part of the cavern in the other direction. Hurrying after them, they climbed down even farther than before, avoiding more mushroom creatures and cutting apart the ones they couldn’t. Soon, Quirrel began to notice the stakes embedded in the ground around them, and the masks of long-dead beasts adorning them.

Remembering the cicada warrior’s words, he turned back to Ghost. “Are we going to find the tribe that Cloth spoke of?” he asked. They briefly looked back towards him before lifting their nail to point at a thin, tall bug in the distance.

“I see...” Quirrel couldn’t help but remember the state of Ghost’s nail. If the tribe were as dangerous as Cloth had implied, then there was a chance their weapon wouldn’t be enough- Swallowing down his worries, he drew his own nail and prepared for the worst.

“Lead the way, then.”


	5. City of Tears

The rain was endless. It came down steadily and flowed through canals and pipes that led away from the city, ensuring it wasn’t flooded completely. The sight left Quirrel breathless as he stood in front of a window, his hand resting upon the transparent surface as the raindrops danced down the glass like liquid crystal. He wondered what it would feel like on his shell, but at the same time, what he really longed for was to see the place where the water was from.

If he closed his eyes he could almost see it. An immense lake, its surface still and clear, and-

Quirrel awoke with a soft gasp, his heart racing as his memories of the past few hours slowly set themselves into place within his mind. As soon as he and Ghost had finally found a way into the City of Tears, they’d rewarded themselves with a respite from their travels. Quirrel had stood watching the rain pour down for some time, and Ghost did what they seldom allowed themselves to do, and slept on the bench just behind him.

Turning back, Quirrel stepped close, half worried over whether he should risk waking them. In the end, his need for their closeness won over his fears, and with the gentlest of motions, he sat upon the bench and carefully maneuvered their head into his lap. When they ceased to stir- their breathing still even and slow -he allowed himself to relax against the comfortable metal. For once, there was nothing else he had to do. The call was a distant noise in his mind that was drowned out by the sound of flowing water, and Ghost’s presence staved off the rest of his worries.

For a moment, he froze as they shifted in their sleep, their body turning so they could press their face into his stomach before settling once more. Hesitantly, he rested his hand on their shoulder and let out a soft breath. What had he done to deserve a companion such as them? Ghost wasn’t only his friend, but throughout their journey, they’d served as a protector and a source of comfort which he’d never known before. Given the chance, he hoped he could repay them for everything they did, including pushing him out of the way of danger or fighting off vicious creatures that he may not have been able to face on his own.

Even now, with them being asleep and his mind abuzz with uncertainty, he could feel the unease slowly melting away to reveal solid conviction underneath. He wanted to stay with them as long as they’d allow. At his core, Quirrel hoped they wouldn’t leave him behind, but he knew he must be prepared for it just in case.

Forcing down his worries, Quirrel ducked his head and pulled the mask over his head down lower to block out the light from the lanterns. He could fret over his relationship with Ghost later. For now, he would rest.

\---

Quirrel knew that the reanimated husks of the city’s sentries might prove dangerous to an unprepared traveler, but he was still surprised by the skill and speed they possessed as he worked to fend them off. Beside him, Ghost’s nail glinted in the rain, the water bouncing off its polished surface as they cut down the remaining husks in their way. Quirrel couldn’t be more thankful that they’d found the nailsmith earlier. The old beetle had seen potential in Ghost’s weapon, and now, their formerly dull and chipped blade was renewed and sharpened to a point.

Where they were a formidable force to be reckoned with before, now, Ghost was now outright deadly. Each parry and slash was executed with a precision that they’d been honing since the two of them had started their descent into Hallownest’s ruins. Now, they were making their way to the center of that old kingdom, and once again, Quirrel feared what they’d find at its heart.

The raining city was overrun with infected denizens, and each building they entered harbored even more husks. Although many were infected guards, most were former citizens of the capital. His stomach churned with unease at the sight of the kingdom’s residents.

At some point, all those bugs were like him. They too used to possess that odd curse, the presence of mind that granted him and others with the ability to think- to  _ feel _ . In some ways, he almost wished he was like the lesser creatures that wandered the wastes, free of the ability to worry or fret over life, focusing only on survival. Except, right now, that was exactly what he was doing.

With two swipes of his nail, he sent the husk sentry in front of him staggering back, their unsteady limbs struggling to keep them balanced on the slippery ground. It only took one kick from Quirrel to send them toppling into the black water below as he turned his head away, not wanting to watch the other bug drown.

As he looked back at Ghost, he realized they’d already dispatched the flying sentries that were hovering over their heads. Double checking to make sure their path was clear, Quirrel hummed with satisfaction as he realized that they were safe for the moment.

Stepping into the closest building, Quirrel let the tension fall away from his frame as he realized that there were no other bugs on the bottom floor. The corridor was blessedly empty of all others except Ghost and himself. He didn’t bother with drying himself off, for his efforts would be wasted as soon as they stepped out onto the other side.

Although Ghost seemed unbothered by water in all forms, Quirrel still had his reservations. When they finally emerged from the shelter the building provided, Quirrel had to force himself not to flinch when he felt the raindrops start to patter against the mask on his head. Looking ahead, he could see the faint outline of a statue in the distance, its silhouette standing out even as the rain continued to fall.

Later, he would regret focusing on the monument when he should’ve been paying attention to where he was going. It only took a momentary lapse in his concentration to make him forget that the city was laced with canals meant for siphoning off the excess water that poured down from below. He’d only made a few steps before the cobblestone ground below him vanished. Quirrel only had time to let out half a shriek before he was falling, the cold water seeping into his shell almost immediately, his limbs freezing up as panic flooded his mind.

If he looked up he could see Ghost, the bright surface of their mask standing out against the blackness around him even as they tried to reach out for his hand. Quirrel’s thoughts screamed out in the muted atmosphere. Try as he might, his arms refused to move, and even if he kicked, he only continued to sink. Terror was creeping in like the shadows that were beginning to fill his vision. He didn’t want to die! He  _ couldn’t _ die! Not now, not when he hadn’t even discovered what it was that called him to such a kingdom in the first place!

Though it seemed that even that would be out of his control in the end. He couldn’t move or breathe, and when he looked up once more, he saw Ghost get dragged out of the water by an unseen force. Quirrel’s muffled scream only served to deprive him of the last of his air, as the remains of his strength bled away. At this point, he was too tired to even react as a familiar flash of red filled his vision.

The pale crest of the protector of Hallownest was a startling sight, but it was with a palpable amount of relief that he felt one of her arms wrap around him tightly before she pulled them both out of the water almost effortlessly. Collapsing to the ground, Quirrel choked and heaved as a torrent of fluid spilled from behind his mask. Before he realized it, Ghost was at his side, nervously patting his shoulder even as his body tried to expel the excess liquid.

He wanted to speak, but the constant urge to cough and sputter overrode any attempts he might’ve made to utter a single word of thanks to his unexpected savior. Before he’d sufficiently covered, she began to speak instead.

“You are quite lucky that I was here to save your life, traveler. Were I not here, this kingdom would have become your grave as it has for many others.” She looked down at him before yanking her needle out from where it’d been embedded in the ground. “As for you, Little Ghost, I’m sure you understand the meaning of the monument before you. You’ve seen the world beyond this kingdom’s borders, and something has called you back to its depths.” Her words carried above the sound of the rain, and Quirrel found himself finally free of watery torment as Ghost clung to his shoulder tightly.

Looking up, his gaze flickered from the red-cloaked bug to the statue beside her and back. “What- what does this have to do with them, or you for that matter? What was it that summoned them to this place?” he asked. In the back of his mind, he wondered if it was the same thing that had called him as well. When her mask turned towards him, Quirrel felt as though he was back below the surface of the dark water, drowning-  _ suffocating _ .

“This carved figure before us, do you not know it? Your presence here too plays a part in this grand scheme. As for how this relates to the two of us, I must say that I’m disappointed you failed to see the resemblance,” she said, before pointing at Ghost with her nail. “They are the Ghost of Hallownest, and I am its protector, Hornet. The being this tribute represents is the Hollow Knight- our sibling.”

Although he understood her words, his thoughts stuttered to a halt as he attempted to rationalize what he’d just heard.

“I... excuse me?” His confused tone must have expressed that he still didn’t comprehend what she was saying. With a slightly frustrated sigh, Hornet slung her needle back over her shoulder and focused her gaze on him once more.

“The statue was made as a memorial for the Hollow Knight, a being chosen by the Pale King as a sacrifice like no other. Its chains bind it to the black vault above us, but even sealed behind that great door, its cries still reach far to those who can hear its calling. My sibling is one such being, though whatever draws you here is not like them, wanderer.” Hornet took a step back and drew her weapon back for a throw as she turned to look at Ghost. “Seek the Grave in Ash that lies at the edge of this world if you wish to attempt in keeping these ruins alive, Little Ghost, and make sure you keep  _ that one  _ alive. He is more valuable to you than you may yet realize.”

With a flash of thread, she was gone, leaving Quirrel still kneeling on the ground as Ghost clutched his arm in a vice grip. Their nail had been discarded some time ago, the weapon lying on the ground to the side as its wielder focused all their attention on him. Reaching for their hand, Quirrel let Ghost pull him up to stand on his own, his legs wobbling briefly before he managed to steady himself. Turning away from the memorial, he shivered in the rain- both from the chill of being wet and the unease that had wrapped itself around his heart at Hornet’s confession.

Silently, the two of them crossed the square and reached the opposite side of the city. At the first doorway, Quirrel slid to the floor with his back resting against the wall, relieved to be out of the rain. Instead of stopping, Ghost gave him a quick glance before heading further into the building. After a few moments, they returned, dragging a set of torn robes and fabric behind them. Quirrel wasn’t expecting them to throw the cloth on top of him, but as soon as they did, he realized their intent and set about drying himself off.

“Th-thank you, dear.” It took him a moment to realize what he’d just said, Ghost’s pause in motion causing him to sit up sharply. “Ah, wait, I didn’t mean-”

Instead of drawing away, they simply pulled a set of heavy drapes over his shoulders- the old fabric more comfortable than he was expecting -before sitting down and leaning against his side. Hesitantly, he let his arm rest on their shoulder as they drew in closer. Shutting his eyes, Quirrel focused on their presence and the sound of raindrops on glass.


	6. Kingdom's Edge

It took the two of them a while to find a way to the farthest edge of the kingdom, where both ash and bodies rained from the sky. Quirrel had only just recovered from his brush with death, with what was supposed to be a short respite resulting in him falling asleep for quite some time. When he awoke, Ghost was at his side, though it seemed that they’d left and returned at some point while he was sleeping.

They spent some time searching for a way out of the city- finding both another stag station and a hot spring in the process -before their efforts were rewarded. At the bottom of the stag station was a flooded terminal that led away from the capital. It took a large amount of coaxing from Ghost to get Quirrel to even think about touching the water once more, but when he realized it only came up to his waist, he was much more amicable about wading across.

After they cleared the ruined corridor, the two found themselves in a very different place. The trek across the ashen landscape reminded them both of the wastelands to the west, though in the wastes, Quirrel and Ghost never encountered beasts that were as dangerous as the ones that lingered at the edge of the world.

Hornet had said to find her in the Grave in Ash. He didn’t quite understand what she’d meant until he looked into the distance. The massive body of a long-dead creature wound through the landscape. It was with a sudden realization that he noticed the ash in the air was indeed coming from its corpse. Pushing away the momentary disgust, he then knew where he and Ghost had to go.

Hoppers were a nuisance he’d rather have not dealt with, though their larger cousins were horrifying in a way Quirrel couldn’t possibly describe. The aspids that hovered in the air were more dangerous than the ones they had fought before. It seemed that almost everything in the Kingdom’s Edge was out to cause them harm. Even the large and nonthreatening booflies that simply floated idly in the air proved to be an occasional hindrance.

The sooner they were out of such a place, the better.

Except, even when they had set themselves to following the wyrm’s corpse to its end, they found it to be almost endless in its length. It felt like a lifetime before Quirrel and Ghost finally found the place Hornet had specified.

Quirrel flinched as he spied her across the way, the wyrm’s body wrapped around the room like a cage. He’d seen the siblings fight before. Ghost had just barely pulled through intact. Even now, he knew he should have faith in them, but there was always a chance that they could lose, and then- Drawing in a shuddering breath, he felt their hand grasp his before giving it a reassuring squeeze. Looking down at them, he tried to force down his worries.

“Come back to me in one piece, Ghost.  _ Please _ .” Though they couldn’t speak, their determined nod was enough for him. Settling himself just before the entrance of the cavern, Quirrel watched them hurry forward with their head lowered and their nail drawn.

Ghost was going to win.

\---

Ghost had won.

Quirrel had spent every moment of their fight with Hornet silently panicking and driving himself mad with fear. Comparing the sibling’s battle to the one in Greenpath, he realized that both of them had grown since their previous encounter. In fact, their first fight seemed...  _ sloppy _ in comparison to the sheer skill displayed before him. When he wasn’t fearing for their life, Quirrel marveled at Ghost’s precision and how effortlessly they wielded their weapon.

Even Hornet seemed to have come to respect them more after facing them a second time. She too had honed her skills since her first meeting with Ghost, but when it came down to who was stronger, they’d still managed to defeat Hallownest’s sole protector.

It was with a bow and a long sweep of her needle that Hornet acknowledged them, her awed whisper of their prowess reaching him even through the wind. Once the bout was over, Quirrel found himself approaching her. When she turned her gaze to him, there was an understanding that he hadn’t seen before.

“You know, I don’t believe I thanked you for saving my life back in the capital-” Hornet held up her hand to silence him.

“Don’t thank me yet, wanderer. You may yet live to regret my assistance. You saw through my sibling’s hollow exterior, but I wonder...have you realized your own reason for being here yet, or do you simply follow them because you can?” she asked, before re-sheathing her needle.

Glancing at her, Quirrel contemplated whether or not he should provide her with an honest answer. “I’ll follow Ghost anywhere. Not just because I can, but because I want to. We traveled the dead wastes to the far west of this kingdom, and once their work here is done I shall follow them wherever they may go. As for why I’m here, the reason escapes me, but I’m sure it will come to me eventually.” He tried to keep his voice light, but the briefest hints of uncertainty still clung to the recesses of his mind.

Hornet lifted her head to look at him before turning back towards where Ghost had gone. “You’re more delusional than I first thought if you truly think that you could follow them where they’re going. Their task only has one end, and although you play a part in it, you cannot stop them from doing what must be done,  _ what could be done _ .” Quirrel flinched at the subtle edge in her tone. “The fate of this kingdom rests on their shoulders. If you become a hindrance, I won’t hesitate to stop you.”

The two of them held each other’s gaze for a moment. Quirrel had half a mind to fear that she’d turn her needle on him then and there, but it soon became apparent that he had other things to worry about as the very ground beneath them began to shake. With a sharp gasp, he realized that Ghost hadn’t yet emerged from the wyrm’s shell. As he looked down into the tunnel, he could see the very foundations crumbling beneath the heavy corpse.

Whipping around to look back at Hornet, it seemed that she’d come to the same conclusion as he. If they didn’t return soon, Ghost would be trapped beneath the remains of the wyrm.

“You have to go get them-!” It took everything he had for Quirrel not to start screaming.

Looking away, Hornet feigned indifference. “They’ve just bested me in combat. They’ll be fine.”

A frustrated noise tore itself from Quirrel’s throat. “Just because they’re better at fighting doesn’t mean they can escape something like this! There’s still time, you can go down and-” Turning away from him, Hornet scoffed.

“I won’t. This is simply another obstacle that they must endure on their own.” As soon as she finished speaking a horrible crashing noise knocked them both off their feet. Once they were standing again, Quirrel abandoned any sort of pretense- his hands reaching out to grasp Hornet’s shoulders as he shook her violently.

“You’re the only one strong enough to get them out! You said this kingdom depends on them? Then what will happen if they die here? Stop clinging to your pride and  _ help them _ !” he all but screamed.

There were a tense few seconds where Hornet said nothing, her stare boring into him even as he dug his claws into her arms. Just before he lost all hope, she pushed him away and wordlessly leaped down into the collapsing remains of the wyrm. Quirrel wanted to cry, shriek, anything to stop the static in his mind from taking over as he watched the ash fill the corridor in front of him.

Dropping to his knees, he tried to hold back his tears as the rumbling and wind stopped, the air going still and quiet in a way that made his own thoughts much too loud. Every second that passed was torture, and somewhere deep inside himself, Quirrel found it poetic that Ghost would have their own near-death experience so soon after his.

When the heap of ash in front of him began to shift, Quirrel stood immediately. When Hornet burst out of the pile with Ghost held tight under one arm, he couldn’t help but heave out a ragged sigh of relief. To his disdain, Hornet deposited her unconscious sibling unceremoniously into his arms before sending him a hard look and zipping away on her needle and thread.

Sliding down to the ground, Quirrel held Ghost’s head up as their limp body rested in his lap.

While they slept, he couldn’t help but catch notice the mark emblazoned on their shell as their cloak fell open. A four-pronged crest stood out just below their neck, its edges glowing a stark white that contrasted with the black of their body.

“Oh, what weight have you taken upon yourself this time, dearest?” his question went unanswered, but the sentiment still hung heavy in the dead air. When Ghost began to stir, Quirrel finally gave in to his urge to clutch them tightly against his chest.

Not long after, he felt them wrap their arms around his neck briefly before pulling away and reaching up to rest a hand on the side of his face. Looking down, he saw them watching him with concern.

Laughing to himself, Quirrel rested his head against theirs. “Why are you looking at me that way?” They answered his inquiry by lifting their hand away from his face, the tears he’d been unknowing crying still clinging to their fingers.

“Ah- ah, I’m sorry for all the theatrics, but I hope you can pardon me this once. It seems that you’re putting in quite a lot of effort into making me worry.” Even his attempts at making light of the situation fell flat as more tears began to drip from the bottom of his mask. In response, Ghost curled up in his arms and rested their hand against his chest.

Sitting on the ground, holding his only companion, Quirrel didn’t dare let himself voice the words he wished he could say.

_ ‘Don’t go where I can’t follow,’ _ he wanted to beg, even if he knew that one day that would be exactly what they’d do.


	7. Deepnest

If he were being honest, Quirrel couldn’t say that he enjoyed Deepnest very much. The mantises had welcomed him and Ghost back into their territory, but the Mantis Lords warned of the danger the spider’s realm posed to even the most prepared of travelers. Even so, their warnings didn’t stop the two as they stepped past the heavy gate separating the fungal wastes from the darkest outskirts of the kingdom.

After spending what felt like an eternity of losing their way, getting chased by garpedes, and being ambushed by dirtcarvers, Quirrel and Ghost were lucky enough to- quite literally -fall into a safe haven.

The hot spring wasn’t very deep or large, but after the ordeals they’d just faced, Quirrel didn’t have it in himself to complain. The warmth of the water seeped into his very core, and with a low sigh, he leaned back against the heated rocks and let the pain float off with the steam. Next to him, Ghost seemed to be dozing off in the pool, their head lolling forward every few seconds or so.

Instead of waiting for the inevitable to happen, Quirrel gently wrapped his hands around their midsection and pulled them close to his chest. When they glanced up at him in confusion, he murmured out a soft reassurance.

“I don’t want you to slip under, dearest. Let me hold you until we depart?” In the end, they were too tired to refute him, as their chest began to rise and fall with the familiar pattern of sleep.

\---

The farther he and Ghost traveled into Deepnest, the more Quirrel wished they were back in the hot spring. All around them deadly creatures seemed to appear out of the darkness, their shrieks and screams of alarm only serving to make him more on edge as they worked their way to the kingdom’s heart. Quirrel could tell that Ghost hated to turn their nail upon the formerly intelligent spiders, but they could do nothing to save the infected.

Dispatching another weaver before it could descend on top of him, Quirrel winced at the sound it made before dying, its screeching wail echoing through the caverns as the skittering sound of the other beasts scratched against the inside of his mind. He did not like this place at all.

By the time they reached the borders of what officially marked the territory of the former Queen of Deepnest, Quirrel was exhausted beyond compare. He wanted nothing more than to scoop up Ghost and race as far away from the nightmarish place as soon as possible. But, they were there for a reason, and they needed to see it through first.

The hanging village was eerily silent in a way that put him on edge in the worst way. If he looked down, he could see the barest hint of light glinting off the surface of the water far below them. Falling down there meant that they might never find their way back up again, which was something that Quirrel would love to avoid at all costs. Stepping close to the nest in the center, he gave Ghost’s a shoulder a soft pat to get their attention before pointing to one of the dens further down.

“I’m going to go look around. Will you be alright on your own?” They simply drew their nail in response.

\---

Shaking slightly, Quirrel made his way out of the abandoned nest with his nail held high. He’d found nothing but corpses in that place- their bodies wrapped up tightly in old threads. It was with a sinking feeling that he realized that those poor bugs had either died trapped there or worse. With a newfound wariness, he stepped into the den that Ghost had gone into some time ago.

“Ghost? I didn’t find anything useful, but we might want to be careful- ah, oh, oh no.” As soon as his vision adjusted to the dim light in the room, he recognized the dead bodies littering the ground. Trying not to let panic slip into his voice, Quirrel called out for them. When that didn’t work, he began searching around the nest for any signs of where Ghost might’ve gone. There was a bench in the center of the room that was covered in torn webbing, and when Quirrel examined the broken bodies of the husks, he found their shells mysteriously empty.

Right before he began to lose hope, he felt something drop onto his mask from above. Looking up, Quirrel only had a second to realize that it was Ghost who was falling, right before their tiny body landed on top of him- his yelp of surprise accompanying the sound of their bodies colliding with the floor.

Lifting a hand to see whether his mask was damaged, Quirrel groaned before looking over to Ghost as they picked themselves up off the ground. “Ghh... how nice of you to drop in, dearest. Though next time, some prior warning would be nice.” When he found the mask on top of his head intact, he stood and brushed the dirt and dust from his shoulders. “So, did you find what you were looking for?”

Ghost shook their head no and pointed upwards at the hole they’d made in the ceiling.

“Is what you need up there?” They nodded. “Very well then, come here-” Reaching out for them, Ghost hurried to his side and let him wrap an arm around their waist before he was leaping at the wall and jumping through the hole they’d made.

The inner part of the nest was even darker than the room he’d entered into. Quirrel could barely see through the darkness until Ghost pulled their lumafly lantern from beneath their cloak. With that, they set off into the heart of the beast’s den.

It seemed that most of the place had already been cleared out by Ghost before his arrival. The bodies of Herrah’s followers littered the ground in several places. As they climbed, Quirrel glanced at the remnants of beings who- at some point -were sapient creatures just as he. He hoped that their spirits would be able to find rest at the very least.

The way to the only part of the nest Ghost hadn’t explored was blocked off by a solitary devout, its enraged chirping being the only warning it gave before it revealed its face and lashed out at them with its massive foreclaws. Both Quirrel and Ghost jumped out of range of its strikes before retaliating. Ghost jumped over its body and struck at its backside while Quirrel went for its face. Although the creature put up a valiant effort, it was eventually felled, its dying screech making Quirrel just the slightest bit ill as it curled up on its back.

“Such a pity that a place so full of fearsome beings be reduced to this by that blight. May it find peace in the eternal dark,” he sighed, folding its claws over its eyes once more. Looking back at Ghost, he saw them watch him for a moment before they bowed their own head out of respect.

Leaving the body behind, Quirrel had to cover his eyes briefly as they entered the next room. The place was full of lit candles, their light providing a stark contrast to the shadows that obscured the rest of the den, and in the center of the room was Herrah herself. The Queen of Deepnest was lying atop a stone plinth, and when Quirrel approached, he could see the faint glow of runes surrounding her body.

For some reason, the sight made him feel unfathomably sad.

“So much sacrificed, and so little gained.” Sitting beside the monument, he watched as Ghost drew the talisman they’d obtained from the Seer, its blade coming to life in their hand. With one last look at him, they struck at Herrah with the dream nail, their body immediately going limp as they fell back into his arms. Although he’d already known what would happen, it still took a measure of effort for Quirrel not to fear for their safety as they laid- asleep?-in his lap.

Not long after, another visitor entered the chamber from the opposite side of the room. Quirrel forced himself not to tighten his grip on Ghost as Hornet’s crimson cloak came into view.

When her stare met his own, Quirrel congratulated himself inwardly for not flinching. As she approached, it took every ounce of willpower he had to not immediately stand and flee. Across from him, Hornet sat down at the base of the plinth, her gaze lingering on the figure sleeping atop it for a moment before she bowed her head and set aside her needle.

“Fear not, wanderer. I am not here to engage with either of you. My presence in this village is for the sake of paying my respects and nothing else,” she said, her normally proud voice tinged with grief. “Allow me to at least stay beside my mother before she passes.” Stunned into silence, Quirrel almost didn’t notice the sudden brightening of the room before both he and Hornet turned to look at Herrah just in time to see her body fall apart into pieces of light.

The glimmering shards hovered above the plinth for only a second before they were snuffed out, a gust of wind extinguishing the candles in the room. In his lap, Ghost woke with a start, their gaze darting around before settling on Hornet. As she turned to look at them, Quirrel thought he might’ve seen the barest hint of moisture shining behind her mask.

“So, the Beast is slain...” she whispered, ducking her head. “There was nothing I could do to stop you, but at the very least- I was able to spend at least a few more moments with her before she passed.”

Quirrel glanced down at Ghost before releasing them from his arms and letting them step closer to their sister. At their approach, Hornet turned towards them with the slightest of movements.

“Although I did not choose this life that was granted to me, I am thankful for it nonetheless. Perhaps, one day, I will figure out a way to properly repay her for all that she gave up for me.” Even in the dark, Quirrel was sure that he saw tears dripping down her mask. “Leave me to my mourning, Ghost. There is nothing left for you here.”

Whether out of respect or understanding, Ghost stood and left, their gaze lingering on Quirrel before they stepped out of the room. Quirrel stood and turned to follow, but he froze when Hornet began to speak again.

“I know who called you here, wanderer, and I pray that you do not feel sorrow as I have when you realize the price you’ll have to pay, no matter which path you choose.”

Even after her ominous words left the air, Quirrel trailed after Ghost with Hornet’s enigmatic warning hanging over him.


	8. Queen's Gardens

The Queen’s gardens were beautiful, but even Quirrel could see that they’d seen better days. The grounds were overrun with thorns, and he and Ghost had been forced to face off against several mantises- their appearances and fighting techniques much different than the one from the tribe living in the fungal wastes. The traitor mantids were sneaky and aggressive, barely giving them a chance to realize they were there before attacking.

However, Quirrel supposed that it wasn’t all bad. Before advancing further into the gardens, they’d met up with a familiar figure near the entrance. Quirrel remembered the last time he had seen Cloth. They’d found her in the Ancient Basin half-paralyzed with terror over the lesser mawleks that hissed and spat out globs of burning fluid.

Once Ghost had defeated the beasts, she’d become inspired. Quirrel knew a warrior when he saw one, and it seemed that Cloth had finally managed to push past her fears and embrace the title. Now, she was accompanying them through the gardens, her massive club a useful tool in dealing with several of the creatures that inhabited the overgrown landscape. With all three of them traveling as a group, there was less of a chance of anything impeding them on their trek.

There was only one other thing that Quirrel was worried about.

When Ghost was far enough ahead that he no longer worried about them being able to hear his words, Quirrel turned to Cloth, briefly admiring how confident she looked with her club held over her shoulder.

“Someone once told me that many come to Hallownest seeking wealth and fortune. Neither Ghost nor I have much need of such things, but what about you? What drew you to this long forgotten kingdom, my friend?” At his inquiry, Cloth made a curious noise.

“Truthfully, I came here seeking combat! The wastes beyond this land pose little danger to someone of my size, but this legendary Hallownest is fraught with beings capable of providing me a true challenge.” She laughed heartily and Quirrel almost stopped when he caught Ghost glancing back at them.

“I suppose that’s as worthy a reason as any, but why actively seek out danger when most would rather avoid it? Do you not fear for your life? What about those who care about you?” Quirrel couldn’t help but channel a bit of worry into his voice.

Facing away from him. Cloth let out a wistful sigh. “But there is the problem. The one who cared about me is gone, and without her, I have done nothing but search for a way for us to be reunited. Do not tell the little knight, but if all goes according to plan, then soon, very soon, I shall see her again.” Her words- once deciphered -left Quirrel feeling more anxious than before.

Looking ahead, his gaze lingered on Ghost as they hacked their way through the foliage. During their entire journey together, Quirrel hadn’t once entertained the thought of what he’d do should something... terrible happen to them. Yes, they’d been in dangerous situations before, but nothing had ever kept them down for long. Now, the only thing remaining in his head was  _ what if _ -

“Cloth, I won’t pretend that I know your pas or the circumstances which led you to this place, but I’d implore you to think first. Your friend- what would she say if she knew of your plans? Would she want to see you again, knowing that you’d willingly throw away this life that you have?” Cloth briefly paused in her stride before continuing on, her head lowering slightly.

“...When you care about someone so completely, it seems like the rest of your life is without meaning once they are gone,” she sighed. “Though, I cannot deny that I see the wisdom in your words. Perhaps a sign shall come to me before we face that traitorous tribe again, but if not, please tell your companion not to worry. I will be with Nola then.”

Quirrel wished there was something, anything he could say to make her reconsider, but he knew that such things were out of his control. “Very well, but I hope that in the end, it does not come to that.”

\---

Fighting was not what he was made to do. Quirrel knew this even as he clung to the blade he was using to defend himself with. Given the opportunity, he’d rather never engage in serious combat again. When one of the traitor mantises rushed towards him, he was barely able to parry their strikes, their claws glancing off his nail and forcing him back. It was only thanks to his quick reactions that he was able to dispatch them quickly.

Across the room, Cloth and Ghost were engaged in their own battles. The only two exits from the room were closed off to them, yet as they fought, more and more mantises seemed to appear from nowhere. Their bulky bodies and vicious attacks made dodging difficult, but the group continued to push back against the onslaught. Over time, the number of intruders dwindled, and once the last of the mantises was defeated, Quirrel allowed himself to relax- if only briefly.

However, the victory was short lived as the ceiling began to break away above them, glass and stone raining down upon them all as a huge mantis fell from the ceiling, its massive frame obscuring the rest of the room from his sight as it screeched at them. In the back of his mind, Quirrel remembered the broken throne in the Mantis Village. The traitorous fourth Lord was before them.

Realizing that the giant mantis was barreling towards him, Quirrel dived out of the way. His startled yelp was covered up by the sound of Cloth’s heavy club blocking the Traitor lord’s strike. After picking himself up off the ground, Quirrel saw Ghost dart in to take their own jab at their enemy’s shell.

After having been reforged two more times, their weapon was deadlier than ever, and Quirrel could hear the effects in the scream that the beast made as Ghost hacked away at the more vulnerable parts of its body. Leaping forward, he made his own attempt to distract it while Cloth prepared herself for another strike. Between her club and Ghost’s nail, their foe was at a disadvantage.

Or, that was what Quirrel had thought, before the former Mantis Lord swung around and whipped a claw out at the cicada warrior, her body hitting the wall on the opposite side of the room with a loud thud that shook the room. Stunned, Quirrel stopped where he was. In front of him, Ghost let out a burst of both shade and soul, the projectile tearing through the mantis’ body as it hissed at them.

Taking the opportunity while it was distracted, Quirrel rushed to Cloth’s side, hesitantly reaching out for her shoulders even as she lay still upon the ground. Just before he began to assume the worst, she picked herself up with a soft growl.

“I’ve had some time to think on our earlier conversation, Quirrel, and you know what?” Jumping back with surprise, Quirrel watched as she let out a battle cry that had the beast looking back in her direction. “Nola and I will see each other again someday, but until then,  _ I am going to live a life she’d be proud of! _ ”

With a speed that he hadn’t realized she was capable of, Cloth charged at the Traitor Lord, her club held high over her head. Ghost, sensing the inevitable, only had a split second to get off one last attack, but Quirrel recognized the spell they used right before Cloth reached them. Lifting off the ground briefly, they slammed into the enraged mantis with their body covered in a veil of shadow, the attack stunning it as they fled, and leaving a brief opening for Cloth- who slammed her heavy weapon down upon its head with such ferocity that even Quirrel flinched at the sight.

In an instant, the giant mantis was crushed against ground, both its face and horns cracked as the light, and life, seeped out of its eyes. Hesitantly, Quirrel stepped closer to the corpse, relaxing when it didn’t react to his presence. At his side, Cloth dropped to her knees, and both he and Ghost were there to make sure she was alright.

“Worry not, my friends, I am fine. Just...winded.” With a harsh sigh, she leaned back and sat upon the floor, ignoring the bodies of the defeated mantises littering the ground around her. “Go on ahead, little warrior, I shall be fine on my own. What a fantastic battle! I shall treasure this memory for as long as I live.” Nodding wordlessly to Ghost, Quirrel watched as they made their way to the opening on the opposite side of the room, but not before they looked back once, twice, to make sure that he and Cloth were still ok.

Once they’d vanished from sight, Quirrel himself leaned back against the wall and tried to steady his breathing. “Ah, what a bout. If I’m lucky I’ll never experience anything like it ever again.” Holding a hand against his chest, he cast his gaze over Cloth, taking in her battered form. “You know, the small town above us would be a perfect rest stop for someone before they go out into the world seeking adventure once more. Especially a warrior looking to recover from an intense fight.”

“Is that so? I might just take your advice then!” Cloth hummed good naturedly before giving him a knowing look. “Thank you, for what you said earlier. I’d thought about it before, of course, but I suppose I just needed a bit of a push to realize how foolish I was being. I’ll be reunited with her eventually, so why rush?” Quirrel couldn’t help but feel lighter at her confession.

“Well, I’m glad I was able to help.”

“Indeed, and if you and your companion ever consider traveling beyond this kingdom once again, I’d be more than glad to accompany you both on your journey.” Briefly, he wondered if she was joking, but as he stared he realized that there was nothing but sincerity in her voice.

Perhaps, one day that dream would become a reality.


	9. Teacher's Archives

Quirrel had never felt such unease from simply looking at a building before. The structure just above the acid lake had his mind buzzing, the previous light-headed feeling he used to get while passing through Fog Canyon was now replaced with a clarity that made him wish he was far away from the place. Yet, despite all this, he was still innately drawn to the place. Thanks to an odd fruit that Ghost had obtained some time ago, they were no longer affected by the corrosive fluid that filled many of the caverns, and as they followed him through the strange place, memories from an age long past began to slowly return to him.

As he stood in front of the entrance, he hesitated to proceed. He knew what awaited him inside. Ghost had already broken two of the three seals, and at the heart of the building, he had no doubt that they’d find the final third necessary to open the vault above them. But what then? By now, Quirrel knew the truth of their existence. Ghost was of a similar making to the being inside the black egg temple. In fact, the fabled Hollow Knight which had sealed away the old light in the first place was their  _ sibling _ .

Ever since being forced to come to terms with said facts, Quirrel had grown more and more worried about what Ghost would do once their quest was over. What role was he to play in all this? Where would he go if they were gone? They were questions he simultaneously wanted answers to- but also would have preferred to ignore until later.

Though now, there really was only one direction left for him to go.

At his side, Ghost watched him. Their gaze was unwavering, but when he reached out for their hand, they took it without hesitating for even a moment. Briefly, he savored their reassuring squeeze before he readied himself to enter.

“She’s calling me...” he whispered, before stepping past the gates. “I do believe it’s about time I answer.”

\---

The inside of the archives was lit by the bubbling acid from below, its light casting a green tint over everything that was only made more intense by the glow emanating from the hundreds of thousands of tubes scattered throughout the place. Ranging from tiny to constructs over twice his height, Quirrel marveled at the presence of so many forgotten tomes. Just how much knowledge had been stored away? He could’ve spent forever simply reading and learning about all they had to offer.

Briefly losing focus, Quirrel picked up one of the tubes and found that- to his surprise -deciphering the coded text within was almost as natural as reading the common writing most bugs used for their recorded works. One of them was simply a study on plant growth, while another was a report on water-based corrosion in the City of Tears, and another still was a written journal made by one of the archive’s former inhabitants.

Finding his interest drawn the most by the last of the samples, Quirrel felt his eyes rove over the text- skimming through the entries with as much precision as he could manage.

\---

_ Entry no. #1 | Teacher Monomon has just assigned me to be her head acolyte! This means so much to me! I can finally do something other than sort and reorganize records! In fact, to celebrate, I’ve used this old storage tube to keep my thoughts, just in case my notes prove useful in the future. _

-

_ Entry no. #5 | Teacher Monomon said she’s very proud of my work! My heart felt like it was going to spontaneously combust, even though I know that isn’t scientifically possible. I’m glad that she finds my input valuable. I want to be of use to her by any means necessary. Especially if it means I don’t have to go back to my old job. _

-

_ Entry no. #12 | The archives were visited by the King of Hallownest today. Apparently, Teacher Monomon once wrote an elegy for his followers, though I can’t imagine why. This place is technically outside his jurisdiction. No matter, though, for it seems that we’ll be working very closely with Hallownest on a project for something quite important. I may even play a part in it! _

-

_ Entry no. #26 | The infection has spread throughout most of the kingdom now. It accelerated faster than everyone expected it to, and some of the other archive staff have already had to be taken away before they could become...aggressive. Many of the others have already stopped coming, but my Teacher needs me. So I will stay. I can only hope this plan of hers will work. _

-

_ Entry no. #39 | If all goes according to plan, this will be my very last entry. Monomon has left me with the final instructions necessary to finalize this project, and tomorrow the vessel will be sealed in the vault with the help of her other two dreamers. To ensure the Madame is not disturbed in her sleep, I will take that crucial part far away from here, but if she ever feels that something is wrong, I shall return to ensure that the kingdom does not fall. This is the responsibility I have taken, for the good of Hallownest. Though, for the sake of all who live within the borders of this land, I pray that she never has to use this failsafe. The beast she constructed to guard her resting place is strong, and I have no doubt that without assistance, defeating it will be impossible. - Q _

\---

By the time he reached the ends of the logs, Quirrel was shaking, then a cold sense of dread filled him as he realized that Ghost was nowhere to be seen.

“Ghost? Ghost-!” his cries went unanswered, but somewhere below him, he could hear the odd noise of something unnatural waking from its long slumber. Dropping the storage tube, Quirrel ignored the sound of the glass casing shattering as it hit the ground. Right after, he took off running, long forgotten memories flooding back as he remembered which way to go to get to the center of the archive.

Upon arriving, his fears had already been realized. The protector of the archives- Uumuu, Monomon had named it -was active and chasing Ghost around the room, sending trails of deadly electricity after its prey. Without hesitating, Quirrel jumped into the fray. Even with how sharp Ghost’s nail was, they weren’t equipped to disarm the floating beast like he was.

With a finely-aimed strike, he pierced through its membrane with his own weapon, but not before shouting a warning to Ghost to let them know what he was doing. As soon as the creature’s defenses were down, they leaped forward to slice away at the exposed core. After it recovered, the two of them clung to the edges of the room, with Quirrel being careful to avoid the pit of acid below them.

Hopping and dashing about the room, both Quirrel and Ghost made themselves untouchable targets. Uumuu’s attacks were scattered much too thinly over the room to reach them, and the being itself was too slow to catch up. With another precise hit, the beast’s protective outer-layer was dismantled long enough for Ghost to use their nail against its weak center.

Over the next few moments, the battle repeated in the predictable manner of  _ dodge, stab, slash, dodge, stab, slash _ , until the protector of the archives was no more. With its core damaged beyond repair, the creature rapidly came apart before their eyes, silent even as it died. Although he didn’t remember how the being came to be made, Quirrel still felt a shred of grief for the beast whose only purpose in life was to sacrifice.

With the gates opened, Ghost was ready to move on. Quirrel wanted to hold them back, but he knew-

Letting them wade through the acid below, he hopped away to find an alternate path to where they were going. He could see it in his mind’s eye, her silhouette trapped in suspended animation. She was still calling him, and he knew he wouldn’t find rest until he answered.

As soon as he reached Ghost once more, the noise in his mind stopped.  _ She was right there _ . Dazedly, he stepped up to the chamber and placed his hand upon the glass.

“Across the vast wastes and plains, you summoned me here. How amusing it is, then, that I cannot even bear to fulfill the task you gave me to do.” Something tight and uncomfortable rose up in Quirrel’s chest as he turned back towards Ghost. Kneeling on the ground, they didn’t even hesitate to step forward into his embrace as he pressed his face against theirs. “Dearest... we’ve come so far together. It doesn’t surprise me that we would both be drawn here. Though our reasons for coming to this kingdom may differ, I don’t regret making this journey with you. In fact, I believe I’ve been made stronger for it, and yet so much weaker at the same time.” Quirrel hoped they couldn’t feel the tears that he knew were dripping off his mask.

Clutching them tightly, he thought about what would happen as soon as the final seal was broken. “I know it is your purpose- your duty -to undo her protection upon that place, to free your sibling from their cursed restraints, but-” His voice caught in his throat. “ _ Ghost _ , if you fulfill that mission, I’m- we’ll never see each other again, will we?”

Quirrel could have sat there and wept forever with Ghost in his arms, but he couldn’t bring himself to hold them back from reaching their goals. He knew now. He cared about them,  _ loved them _ , even. But he couldn’t force them to give up the fate of an entire kingdom for him, a simple bug with a past he couldn’t even remember.

Shakily, Quirrel released his hold on Ghost and stood. With slow, deliberate movements, he removed the mask from atop his head and held it out towards the glowing chamber. The relic in his hands slowly changed to light before bursting apart, the pieces reforming inside the tube as his teacher’s body manifested itself once more. Falling to his knees once more, Quirrel drew in a shuddering breath.

“Go on, my dear. She and I both know what must be done, and I implore you not to hesitate.” Even as he spoke, the sight of Ghost drawing the dream nail from beneath their cloak was almost enough to have him in tears once more. However, before they struck out with the blade, they leaned in close to him and rested their free hand on the side of his face. Frozen in place, Quirrel let them touch their mask to his own before they pulled away- almost regretfully -and swung the talisman at the chamber containing Monomon’s body.

On reflex, he reached out to catch them as they fell limply into his arms. For a moment, he simply stared at their unconscious form, wondering how his travels had ended up with such a turn of events. Holding them close to his chest, Quirrel curled forward and sighed as he tried to memorize what it felt like to have them so close.

This would be the last time he’d ever get to do this, after all.


	10. Black Egg Temple

The crossroads were overrun with a sickly orange miasma that had Quirrel feeling ill. The sweet scent made him dizzy, his stride uneven as he tried to reach his destination. Perhaps making one last round through Hallownest before his departure was a mistake.

Ghost had to have awakened by now, and upon realizing he was no longer there, they’d finally be free to do what it was they’d come to Hallownest for in the first place. Quirrel felt no regret in leaving while they slept. Without him, there was nothing to hold them back. He’d paid his teacher his last respects, so ultimately there was nothing left for him to do except depart.

But he didn’t want to leave right away. His memories of this place were gone- stripped away when he gave himself up to be used in Monomon’s plan. With this chance, he wanted to see as much of the kingdom as he could. Yet upon returning to the crossroads, he realized that such a thing might not be an option any longer. Even the old stag had recognized the smell in the air, his warning for Quirrel to be cautious still lingering in his mind as he carefully navigated the ruins.

Thick clusters of infection-filled pustules blocked the way in several directions, but Quirrel tried not to let himself get frustrated by their presence. Unfortunately, it seemed there was only one way to go now that the caverns themselves were overrun with the plague.

Soon, he found himself in front of the Black Egg Temple once more. However, instead of peaceful tranquility emanating from its doorway, only thick orange mist spilled outward. As he tried to peer inside the sick feeling came back in full force. Ghost was probably within its walls already. Inhaling sharply, Quirrel glanced to the side. It would be easy enough to leave. Although the creatures in the crossroads had been consumed by the infection as well, he could make his way past and slip into Dirtmouth through the well. From there, it was a simple climb back out to the plains.

Were he a lesser bug, perhaps such a plan of action may have been preferable.

Steeling himself, Quirrel turned back towards the temple and stepped into the fog. There was nothing he could do to stop Monomon’s death, but perhaps he could stop Ghost’s.

Inside the temple, pulsating vines of infection grew out of the black egg, the growths stretching across the floor and making the formerly neat place seem like a war zone. The most surprising thing about the place, however, was the fact that Hornet was standing in front of the broken vault. The door which had held the seals was shattered, and the protector of Hallownest was the only one left to keep watch should something emerge from within.

“So, you returned for them then? I suppose you think yourself noble for not running.” Her scathing words cut deep, but Quirrel refused to let her see him react.

Stepping closer to the vault, Quirrel bowed his head briefly. He’d only lost Monomon’s protection a short time ago, but its loss already had him feeling less safe. Especially when he was on the other end of Hornet’s needle.

“You mistake me for some sort of fighter, but that is not what I am, and we both know that to go against one’s nature is folly in its purest form.” Glancing at the entrance to the egg, Quirrel was surprised to find that the familiar sensation of discomfort and fear that usually accompanied him were nowhere to be found. “I came back for Ghost because I  _ love _ them. We traveled the lands beyond Hallownest together, and I refuse to depart from this place without them.” At his confession, Hornet lowered her weapon but refused to step back.

“That may be true, but you’re already too late. They’ve gone in to face the Hollow Knight, and we both know there can only be one victor in such a situation. There is also the fact that the egg was not created to sustain beings like us. That emptiness that my siblings share keeps them from deteriorating in such an environment, but if we were to go in-” The meaning became apparent to Quirrel almost immediately.

“We won’t come out again,” he finished, a sudden dread filling him before he shook it away. “Even so, I never- I didn’t get a chance to say goodbye. If this is to be my only chance, I won’t waste it. Whether you’re willing to assist me or not, I implore you to let me pass.” Watching her carefully, Quirrel almost sighed with relief when she moved aside.

“Just remember that no matter what happens in there, I won’t be coming to fish you back out again.” Taking her warning to heart, he nodded and rushed into the blackness.

\---

The inside of the egg was dark. That much was obvious, but this was a different sort of dark than he was used to. The shadows moved on their own, and the farther he ran, the more runes he saw light up in the distance, their appearance making them seem both far away and close by at the same time.

At the opposite end of the hallway, he could see the light growing brighter. Though with every step, Quirrel could feel the strength draining from his body. The knowledge that he might die in such a place and the terror he’d normally feel just by considering such a thing was absent, all that mattered was reaching the heart of the vault. As he drew nearer, the sounds of fighting grew louder, until he was sliding through the gate- the runes sealing him into the room as soon as he entered it.

With a sharp gasp, he darted out of the way as a massive body appeared before him, the Hollow Knight’s infected gaze immediately focusing on him even as it used its nail to knock Ghost across the room. Unthinkingly, Quirrel forced himself to ignore his growing fatigue as the much taller bug locked weapons with him. Soon, the burden was relieved as Ghost stood and unleashed a flurry of strikes that forced the other knight to retreat briefly. As they rushed to his side, Quirrel couldn’t help but feel the slightest bit amused as they looked up at him in bewilderment.

“I’m- my apologies, dearest, I didn’t mean for us to meet again like this.” He supposed his words were a bit of an understatement, but he had no time for revision, as the Hollow Knight approached them once more, their massive nail dragging along the ground.

His legs were becoming numb the longer he stayed inside the chamber, but with the seal still in front of the entrance, he had no way to leave. Swallowing his anxieties, he brandished his nail in front of him and glanced back at Ghost.

“Hornet told me that there would only be one outcome to this battle, but she’s wrong, just like how I was wrong. This doesn’t have to be the end for us if you don’t want it to be!” What was only a second in reality felt like an eternity for Quirrel as he watched them lower their nail just slightly before raising it again and nodding sharply.

His relief was punctuated further by a familiar battle cry ringing out through the chamber, Hornet’s signature weapon flashing by them before wrapping around the Hollow Knight just before it could lunge towards them and strike. With their opponent restrained, Quirrel knew just what Ghost would do in that moment. When he caught sight of the dream nail’s luminous blade bursting to life, his heart soared.

In the last moment, before they swung, he recognized the silent request in their gaze. Even as light consumed the room, Quirrel would be right beside them when they woke.


	11. Epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sighing to himself, Quirrel leaned back against the dock and gazed out over the lake before him. The quiet was one he could get used to.

“Ah, so here’s where you’ve been hiding.” Or, at least, he’d be able to get used to it the next time he came back to the place.

“Hello to you too, Hornet,” he said. At his side, Ghost swiveled their head around to get a better look at their sister. Stifling a laugh at their enthusiastic waving, Quirrel lifted his arm off their shoulders so they could go to greet her. “Come to make sure we’ve actually left the kingdom, have you?” He was rewarded for his not-so-subtle jab by having her needle pointed at his head, the slim blade hanging barely an inch away from his face before it was knocked away by Ghost’s blade.

“I’m not the one who said he was going to be departing from what is technically now _my_ _kingdom_ over a week ago. The sooner they are away from Hallownest, the more comfortable I will be.” Of course, the 'they' she was speaking of had no idea they were causing Hornet any amount of discomfort. Across from them, perched at the edge of the water, was the former Hollow Knight.

Ghost’s sibling was a completely different bug after the infection had been struck from their mind. Quirrel had been wary of them at first, but due to the injuries they’d sustained- both during the fight and during their time carrying the old light’s heart within themselves -they were little more than a corpse, barely clinging to a life given back to them. After several days of being treated in the crossroads hot spring with lifeblood poultices smeared over their various wounds, they were only just beginning to regain their strength.

Now that they were well enough to travel, Quirrel was preparing to finally have their rag-tag group leave Hallownest in Hornet’s more than capable hands. Even now, Cloth was waiting for them in Dirtmouth. There was only one thing he’d wanted to see before departing.

Looking back at the surface of the water, Quirrel felt that tranquility touch him again. Standing, he lifted his nail back up and slung it over his shoulders before moving towards where the Ghost and Hornet had dissolved into meaningless bickering, their weapons clashing lightly as they half-played combat.

“Well, you shouldn’t worry any longer, Hornet. We’ll be going now.” Looking up from their fighting, Ghost parried Hornet’s half-hearted strike without looking before running back to the tall Knight’s side and pulling lightly on their cloak. Though their height was still quite intimidating to him, Quirrel had come to associate them as more of a gentle giant than anything.

Their lopsided gaze lingered on him for a moment, a deep rumble emanating from their chest to form a noise that they’d all come to understand as laughter. Brushing past him, they slipped out of the cavern and began to head up, Hornet following silently- likely to make sure they didn’t accidentally break any more fixtures with their horns.

Glancing to his side, Quirrel caught Ghost watching him expectantly, and a soft laugh rose in his chest as he leaned down to caress the sides of their head. “Don’t worry, I didn’t forget.” Leaning down, he gingerly pressed his face against the faint dark lines in Ghost’s face, the last remnants of their struggle against the old light standing out against the pale of their mask.

Quirrel didn’t know how long they stayed in that way, be it seconds, minutes, or even hours, but when he finally pulled away, he couldn’t help but delight in how Ghost seemed to lose themselves in his touch. Of course, he wished they could’ve remained there even longer. He never felt more at peace than when he had them in his arms, simply enjoying their presence. But there were other worlds to explore- other kingdoms outside of Hallownest that they’d never seen before.

Even though he remembered so little of his past life in Monomon’s service, Quirrel didn’t want to go looking for the past. Not when there was so much more to be discovered in his future. There were dozens of questions in his mind, all of them about Ghost, and at this point, he knew he could’ve asked them anything. _Stay with me? Follow me? Share my life with me?_ All of them were special and specific in meaning, but there was only one thing he wanted to know at that moment.

“Ready to go, dearest?” Even with their lack of speech, there were only so many ways one could interpret a whole-hearted  _ yes _ .

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to Maren & Xenon for proofreading this for me and making sure all the Obvious Mistakes were obliterated!! You guys are the best!


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